


Cornerstone

by Magnetism_bind



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blow Jobs, Bottom Steve, Choking, Domestic, First Kiss, First Time, Fix-It, Flashbacks, Hand Jobs, Insomnia, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Psychological Trauma, Rimming, Threesome - M/M/M, Top Bucky, Top Sam Wilson, shower makeouts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-05
Updated: 2014-07-05
Packaged: 2018-02-07 13:27:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,862
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1900632
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Magnetism_bind/pseuds/Magnetism_bind
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Set after Captain America: The Winter Soldier. Steve and Sam track Bucky down and take him home. </p><p>Bucky's remembered a fair amount of his past, the most important part being his feelings for his best friend. As more time passes, he knows if he sticks around he'll only complicate things further for Steve.</p><p>Steve just wants Bucky to be okay. While he's hoping for that, there's something else Steve has to deal with as well - his growing attraction for Sam. Balancing that and his attachment to Bucky isn't easy, until it is. </p><p>Sam helped Steve find Bucky because he knew what it was like to lose someone. He never counted on falling for Steve. Or, for that matter, what would happen with Bucky once he did.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cornerstone

Once they found Bucky, things changed. There was no going back. Steve knew that. The way things were before, Steve couldn’t do that again, couldn’t live like that again. And now he didn’t have to. This was the first time in years Bucky was there when Steve woke up in the morning and when he went to sleep at night.

Except when he wasn’t.

“Have to give him time, man.” Sam yawned, coming up behind him. The bed in the other room was empty, sheets still neat. Clock over the stove blinked 4:35. A time when people should have been asleep, in Sam’s opinion. Not hanging around staring out windows like their puppy had run away from home.

Steve didn’t turn away from the open window. “What if he’s in trouble?” _Again._ He didn’t say that part aloud cause he didn’t have to.

“If he’s in trouble, I’m sure you’ll hear about it.” Sam turned toward the stove. “Coffee?”

Steve sighed. “Why not?”

There was no going back to sleep. Steve didn’t sleep if Bucky was out like this, and most of the time Sam found it hard to sleep once he knew Steve was awake. That part was rough. For years he’d bunked alone, lost too many friends during his time overseas to stay awake at night. You had to grab sleep when you could. But somehow the minute Steve’s feet touched the floor, Sam was awake.

Two and a half cups later, still no sign of Bucky.

“I’m gonna go for a run.” Sam knew better by now than to suggest Steve join him. He didn’t leave the apartment if Bucky was out on one of his absences. It was on Sam’s list of things Steve needed to talk about.

(Steve had his own version of this list. Most of the items on it ended in ‘Leave me alone, Sam.’)

Sam tied his shoes and straightened up. “Don’t drink all my coffee.”

“Yeah.” Steve said. “I won’t.”

Sam just shook his head and went out the door. The sun was just coming up as he started jogging down the sidewalk.

* * *

Two blocks away, Bucky lay on the asphalt roof of an empty garage, flat on his back, breathing heavily. Morning had come before he could persuade himself to go back to the house. Now people were starting to get up to face the day. He squeezed his eyes shut and the night threatened to slip in again.

It had been another bad night where he couldn’t handle the long hours. Lying there hour after hour, knowing Steve was in the next room. Knowing that he couldn’t just go in to him like he wanted.

He wasn’t who Steve deserved anymore. Not that he ever had been.

Bucky waited till his breath slowed back to normal before rolling over and dropping down to the ground.

Walking back to the house through the alley made him feel like this was just another day. Except wearing a long-sleeved shirt and jeans was hardly what he wore on the job. He felt stripped, vulnerable, but he didn’t belong in his armor any more. Didn’t belong in his uniform either. Didn’t belong anywhere.

When he reached the back of the house, Bucky stopped for a moment before finally opening the gate to the backyard. The dew had long since faded. The grass swished faintly under his boots. Needed cutting. He squinted up at the sun as he opened the screen door.

Steve was standing at the counter, open paperback propped up on the counter while he poured a glass of milk. Bucky closed the door silently behind him. He jammed his hands in his pockets and waited.

Steve glanced over his shoulder. “There’s fresh coffee if you want some.” He nodded at the milk carton. “Milk?”

Bucky shook his head. “Black.” He didn’t like the way milk tasted anymore. It was one of those things he had no explanation for.

Steve got down a blue mug from the cupboard ( _It was your favorite color once_ ) and poured it out. He handed it over.

“Thanks.” Bucky just held it. Still waiting.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

There it was. “Yeah.” Bucky said. Now he could go on with whatever came next. Steve had to ask it first, and then he could breathe again.

Steve just nodded and returned to his book.

The first week or so he had always asked more questions when Bucky came back after one of his nights. “Why’d you go out, where do you go, do you want to talk about it?” Over and over until Bucky had smashed his hand through the wall and taken off for three days.

When he came back after that Steve didn’t ask anything other than _was he okay_. He’d stuck to that ever since and in return Bucky tried to stay in at night, tried not to give in to the emptiness. Some nights it worked. Some nights it didn’t.

Sam hung a picture over the hole. Said he found it at a garage sale on his way home. It was a picture of dogs playing poker. Bucky could understand why somebody would get rid of it. What he didn’t understand was Sam bothering to hide what he did.

Bucky took his coffee into the other room and sat on the couch.

“Hey man.” Sam walked through the room.

Bucky nodded at him. He used to think Sam was putting it on, but nobody could fake that friendly attitude 24/7, not even Sam. He really was that genuine. Even when they found him...

Bucky would have thought he was an alien, nobody was like that. Except he’d grown up alongside Steve.

Later he’d try the apology route. Sometimes it helped to say he was sorry. Steve would give him that smile, tell him not to worry about it. Other times he’d just nod and be quiet for a while. That was worse.

For now, Bucky put his feet on the coffee table and leaned his head back, just sipping his coffee. Next on his way through to the bathroom Steve would tell him not to put his feet there, and Sam would hassle him about giving Bucky a hard time. It meant things were okay again.

* * *

Natasha called at the most random times. After they’d found Bucky Steve had taken a formal leave of absence for an undetermined amount of time. What was left of SHIELD didn’t question it. It didn’t stop her from checking in whenever she felt a need to.

This time Steve was at the grocery store, trying to decide whether Bucky would prefer snicker doodles, or cream puffs these days. He put both in the cart. He knew Sam liked snicker doodles at any rate.

“How’s it going, old man?” Natasha’s familiar drawl made him smile.

“Oh, you know.” Steve shrugged. “Bucky can’t go a week without going out at night, and Sam keeps making pancakes all the time.” That last one wasn’t so much a problem. Steve liked pancakes.

“Good, he better save his waffles for me.”

“I’ll tell him you said that.” Steve chuckled.

“And Steve, hang in there.” There’s no joke there. She meant it.

Steve smiled. Natasha always could make him smile. “I’ll do my best.”

“See you.”

“See you.”He looked at his phone. _Call ended_. Just like that. There wasn’t much point to carry change these days except to give to the homeless people he saw downtown. He never had to use it to call anyone anymore. Newspapers cost more than a dollar. He remembered once when he had wanted a new Buck Rogers comic book he’d seen at the drug store. His mother hadn’t had any extra money for something foolish like that. Steve hadn't even bothered mentioning it to her.

A day later Bucky had turned up with a dime and given it to him.

“Where’d you get this?” Steve stared at the coin in his hand.

Bucky shrugged. “Found some bottles and turned them in.” His hand squeezed Steve’s shoulder affectionately. “C’mon, whatta you say? Let’s go get it.”

The comic had smelled like fresh ink and cheap paper, but Steve loved every brightly colored page of it. He read it aloud to Bucky as they headed back to the apartment. Bucky rattled the fence slats with his stick as they walked along.

“You ever think about the future?” Steve’s eyes were on the page, studying the spaceship. What would it be like, to be able to travel like that?

“Sometimes.” Bucky glanced at him. “I like right now though.”

Steve looked around the street they were on. A man was hauling out the garbage, cigar tucked between his lips. Smoke floated hazy in the air above them. Somebody was hollering at their kid two blocks over. The trash in the gutter stunk like rotten fish and vegetable peelings.

“I think the future’s gonna be wonderful.” He looked at Bucky, waiting for him to ask how would he know.

Bucky just shook his head and grinned. “Let’s go home.”

* * *

Bucky stood in the shower. The water ran down his back. It had gone cold a while ago. He didn’t move. He didn’t really notice.

He missed touch. Back in the day Steve had always been there for him to tug under his arm or pull into a quick embrace. These days people didn't touch Bucky. Mostly everyone steered clear of him, even before they caught a glimpse of his arm. Even Steve thought first before he touched him now.

Except Sam. He was the only one who made it seem natural. He brushed against Bucky in the hallway, leaning into his space when he reached for something. He made everything seem normal.  
  
Bucky yearned for that, even though he knew it was untrue. He was frozen inside. Words chipped away at him piece by piece, but making them come out of his mouth, that was the hard part. Especially when Steve needed to know he was okay.

It was hard to lie to Steve.

* * *

They had been at the house for four months. It was just a little two bedroom ranch house in the suburbs. Steve had thought it would be a good place to get started over. For now. He wasn’t pushing for set plans yet. One day at a time, that was good enough.

He spent his time sketching and Bucky worked out and they both maneuvered around each other, testing the waters.

Sam kept his regular hours at the VA, and he cooked and he made sure that they both ate regularly. On days where Bucky stayed close to the house he went running, taking Steve with him.

Steve and Sam shared the bedroom with the twin beds, giving Bucky the single. Giving him space, while they shared it.

His memory was still patchy but he remembered how he'd had looked at Steve back then, how he felt when he looked at Steve now. That didn't make it right to tie Steve to him. He would go now if Steve would just let him. That was the problem though. Steve wouldn't.

Sure he'd let Bucky go for a night or two but if he ever thought Bucky was actually gone, Steve would be after him in a heartbeat. That was why Bucky stayed in one place. Trying so hard, so that eventually Steve could move on. Even if Bucky didn’t want him to.

It wasn’t just a matter that he couldn’t have Steve, or that he wasn’t good for Steve. It was seeing what was slowly happening right in front of him, natural as anything. Eventually Steve would pick up on it, and then everything would be done.

The jealousy that dug down deep in his heart when he saw Sam looking at Steve almost made Bucky wish he were still blank. As it was now, nights when he didn’t give in, he just lay there awake in bed, feeling cold and alone and empty.

Despair was an empty glass, the poet once said. Bucky had never had a thing for poets. But he felt like breaking something just to watch it shatter. Maybe that was how poetry was supposed to make you feel.

* * *

That night Bucky sat down at dinner with them, but he was out again as soon as the meal was over. Steve considered going after him. Instead he started doing the dishes.

Sam reached for a towel. “It’s gonna take time.”

How many times had he said that? Steve had lost track. “It’s been four months.” Eventually SHIELD would want him back. He was already getting the occasional polite phone calls, asking when his ‘vacation’ would be up. Eventually they’d be organized enough to send an official request. Then he’d have a real decision. For now he kept putting it off.

“More time.” Sam amended. “You don’t get over something like that in a few days.”

“I know that.” Steve pulled another dish out of the soapy water and rinsed it before passing it to Sam.

Their fingers met and Steve pulled away first.

Sam just rolled his eyes.

It wasn’t the first moment like that. It had been going on since they moved in together, the three of them. Heck, if Steve was honest it had been going on since he first spotted Sam on his run that first morning. With all the trouble dealing with SHIELD and Hydra, there hadn’t been time to discuss it.

 _Or maybe I’m just a coward_ , Steve thought.

He rinsed the last dish and handed it over before turning off the water. He rested his hands against the sink, shoulders slumping a little with the exhaustion that he never wanted to admit to.

“Hey.” Sam laid a hand on his shoulder.

“Don’t just…” If there was a way to say _don’t pity me, don’t touch me just because you think I’m pathetic_ , Steve didn’t know how to say it. There was no good way to say the things he wanted to say to Sam. But maybe he just needed to try.

“I’d never just anything.” Sam whispered, slipping his arms around his waist. He gave Steve a quick squeeze and started to move away again.

Steve turned before he could fully process that, “You…” He wasn’t sure what he was going to say next, and then Sam leaned up and kissed him.

In the movies the scene faded out after the kiss. It didn’t happen there. Steve shifted his stance, lips parting as Sam’s mouth moved against his. There was tongue and firm hands on his hips, and a sudden rush of _I want this so damn bad_ that Steve to rein himself in before he lost it.

Sam’s grip tightened on his t-shirt. “Man, I thought kissing you would be good but I didn’t realize…” He shook his head and gave that little smile Steve knew so well now. “We don’t have to do anything else.”

“What if I want to?” Steve murmured, his fingers trailing over Sam’s jaw.

Sam’s smile widened. “Then what’re you waiting for?”

Steve maneuvered them around, pressing him up against the kitchen sink. His hands slid down Sam’s back. Sam’s hands gripped at his ass.

Sam sucked at a patch of skin on his neck. “You wanna take this to the bedroom?”

Steve hesitated, looking him straight in the eye.

“Or we can leave it here.”

“No,” Steve pulled at his jeans. “We’re going to the bedroom.”

They kissed their way down the hallway, tugging at each other’s t-shirts, discarding them along the way.

“What about Bucky?” Sam nuzzled at Steve’s neck.

“If his previous schedule is anything to go by he won’t be back for hours.” Steve slid his hand down Sam’s chest, pressing against his stomach. “I’m tired of killing the waiting hours with coffee.”

“Well, I am sweeter.” Sam teased.

Steve chuckled, but it was true. In his head he started composing a new list. Things As Sweet As Sam Wilson.

They tumbled down upon the bed, Steve tugging Sam between his legs, kissing his chest. He knew the way Sam arched against him that he wanted this as much Steve did. This time wasn’t just in his imagination.

Sam groaned as Steve’s teeth grazed his nipple. “Shit, man.” He pushed Steve down on his back. “My turn.”

“What’re you planning?”

“Just wait and see.” Sam grinned. He brushed his lips over Steve’s chest, working his way downward in a series of hungry, grazing kisses that made Steve’s skin tingle with anticipation. He paused at the button to Steve’s jeans, and then with another grin, he undid the button.

Steve’s lip caught between his teeth as he watched Sam work his pants open. Sam gave him another look before he lowered his mouth to suck at the growing bulge in Steve’s briefs.

Sam mouthed at his dick until it was achingly erect through Steve’s underclothes, the length of it thick and curved through the material. His face was lost in concentration as he drew Steve out of his shorts. Steve laid back and just watched as Sam’s hand curled around him, sucking at the tip.

Sam’s hands on his hips, holding him in place as he worked Steve’s dick. Just as Steve was about to warn him, Sam pulled off and leaned across his chest. “How’s that?”

“You’re amazing.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” Sam stroked along the underside of his cock making Steve strain at holding back a groan. “Now the question is how, just how much are you willing to beg?”

“Whatever you want.” Steve said.

“Careful, somebody might take that literally.” Sam licked over the slit before Steve could say something else. He loved the way Steve reacted, everything about his face, his eyes, his smile was precious.

Sam dragged his tongue along the underside, making Steve shiver. He slipped Steve back in his mouth, wrapping his tongue around him again.

“Sam, I’m gonna,” Steve’s hips bucked though he tried valiantly to hold them back.

Sam drew off just long to murmur, “It’s okay, just give it to me,” before Steve followed his direction and came down his throat in one easy stream.

Sam swallowed, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s thigh before he rolled over and lay on his back.

Steve stared at the ceiling. “That was…”

Sam patted his thigh. “It’s okay. I know.”

The laughter burbled out of Steve making him rock into Sam’s side. He wrapped an arm around Sam, kissing him. Sam’s arms wrapped around him and he kissed Steve back, winding a leg around Steve’s. Steve felt Sam’s hardness against him.

“Sam.”

“It’s okay.”

“I want you -” Steve moved his hand down Sam’s back, pressing him closer.

“Well, all right.” Sam tugged at his lower lip and then sat back. “Stay right here.”

Steve spread his arms. “Where would I go?”

Sam just gave him a look as he went down the hall. Steve lay there for a second, and then he sat up, wriggling his jeans all the way off until he could discard them on the floor. He was sitting on the end of his bed in his boxer shorts when Sam returned.

“Catch.” Sam tossed him a tube.

Steve caught it, examining the label briefly before he got distracted by the sight of Sam taking his pants off. A sight he had seen before, sure, but it was new now. Now he could look as much as he wanted.

Steve reached out, his hands brushing down Sam’s hips, tugging his briefs down, as they fell back on the bed once more. Sam slipped a hand between them, pulling Steve’s shorts off.

“How do you want me?” Steve whispered.

“Every way, every day.” Sam nipped at his earlobe. “But right now, on your back.”

“All right.” Steve kissed him again and settled on the bed. “Now.”

“Yes, captain, _sir_.” Sam reached for the tube that Steve had discarded on the bed. He poured a dribble of lubricant into his palm. “Now, just relax.”

“I can do that.” Steve shrugged. All the same, he tensed as Sam rubbed a slicked fingertip between his cheeks.

“This is you first time, isn’t it?” Sam gazed down at him. “It’s okay.”

“Yeah.” Steve said. “It’s…”

“It’s cool, man.” Sam kissed him. “Just breathe.” His tongue slipped into Steve’s mouth, just as his finger pressed inside Steve’s ass. His gasp was lost to Sam’s kiss, tongues sliding against each other and Steve arched upward again as Sam kept working him open.

Two fingers in, messy and slick. Sam licked Steve’s lips and sat back. “Remember what I said. Just breathe.”

Steve nodded. He watched as Sam positioned himself between his thighs and then, let himself relax as Sam’s dick nudged at him. He could do this. It was just a matter of muscle relaxation. He’d read about it.

Sam kissed his neck and Steve turned into that kiss, holding him there. They moved against each other, holding each other close.

Steve wrapped his arms around Sam, rocking against him, holding him closer. Sam sank deeper inside him and Steve gasped.

“You doing okay?”

“Just keep doing what you’re doing.” Steve managed.

“But slower?” Sam said, grinning.

Steve’s shoulders shook with laughter. “Speed it up.” He kissed Sam’s lower lip, teasing it with his teeth. “If you can.”

“Oh, was that a challenge?” Sam rocked his hips and Steve moved with him.

Steve’s hands gripped Sam’s ass, wanting even more. “Kiss me.”

“Any time.” Sam kissed him, easing his hand between them to stroke Steve from base to tip. “Now how about you come again for me? If _you_ can?”

“Smartass.” Steve’s head fell back on the pillow with another groan as he spilled over Sam’s palm. In a daze, he dug his fingers into the sheets, kissing Sam’s throat.

“You want me to,” Sam started to pull out and Steve gripped him harder.

“Don’t even think about it.” Steve cupped his face as he gazed up at Sam. “ _Now_.”

Sam smiled, kissing Steve as he rocked his hips lazily, and then they were moving again, deliciously slow until Sam came and Steve was kissing him again until they had to break for breath.

Sam eased out and stretched out beside him. He looked affectionately at Steve. “You want to be alone, or you want to cuddle?”

Steve draped an arm around his hip, kissing his neck. “I hope that second one was a real offer, cause I don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“Alright.” Sam patted his hand. “But just chill for a minute.” He got up and went into the bathroom.

Steve lay on his back, gazing at the ceiling. “Coulda picked a better phrase to use there.”

“I heard that.” Sam called.

Steve grinned.

Sam came back with a damp washcloth, that he used first on Steve, and then on himself.

“You know in the army, we used handkerchiefs.”

“Is that right?” Sam settled back down beside him.

“Yeah.”

“You were doing this with somebody back in the army?”

“Nope, mostly I was jerking off at night in my cot.” Steve said honestly.

“Oh, man.” That was not an image Sam would ever forget.

“What, you think I never did that?”

“Just the thought of it.” Sam laughed and Steve shrugged.

“So tell me what you’d think about back then during those sessions.”

At that Steve grew quiet. “Sure you want to know that?”

“Let me guess.” Sam’s fingers traced lightly down his hip. “Bucky.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up.” Steve looked away, locking his fingers together, staring at his hands.

“Hey, hey,” Sam leaned over and squeezed his hand. “I’m the one who asked, and I asked because I was curious. That’s on me. You’ve got nothing to feel bad about.”

“You’re pretty special, you know that.” Steve told him, all seriousness.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Sam leaned over and kissed him again.

* * *

In the middle of the night Sam woke to Bucky kneeling over him in bed, Bucky’s hands around his throat. He pushed upward at his chest, but Bucky just pressed down harder, watching silently as Sam’s hands flailed out helplessly.

“Get off me.” Sam wheezed. He could still breathe, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. All Bucky had to do was press a little more and he’d be done. His eyes started to blur. “ _Bucky_.”

Bucky leaned down. “You hurt him, and I’ll kill you.”

Sam’s eyes widened and then Steve rolled over in bed and blinked sleepily at them.

“Bucky? Bucky, what the hell, get off him!”

Sam wheezed harder, still fighting to breathe. Then Bucky was off him, moving across the room, slamming through the door. Steve heard the front door bang open and he knew Bucky was gone. He’d deal with that later. For now there was Sam.

Sam sat up, coughing, sucking heavy breaths.

“You all right?” Steve’s hands touched him gently, methodically checking him over.

Sam breathed hard, his throat aching. “Yeah. Yeah, man I’m okay.”

“Let me get you some water.”

He sat there, rubbing at his throat while Steve pulled on his shorts and went to get some water.

Sam fished around in his laundry basket for his sweats and pulled them on. His throat felt tender when he touched it. He coughed again and went out to the kitchen.

“Here.” Steve handed him a glass of water.

“Thanks.” Sam took a long grateful drink. As much as he didn’t care for getting choked in the middle of the night, there was nothing bad about seeing Steve in his boxers. He took another sip.

“I’m sorry.” Steve folded his arms across his chest. “I don’t know what’s with him.”

Sam set the glass down. “Offhandedly, I’d say he’s jealous.”

“Jealous, of what?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “You may not have been born yesterday even back in day, but come on.” His hand swept around the room. “This. Us.”

“Oh.”

“Think about it, man. He’s always had you and now that things are getting on a stable track, now you go and pull this on him.” He sighed. “Technically we pulled it on him, but I think he’s a little madder at you, despite the choking me part.”

Steve just nodded to himself. “Are you sorry?”

“Me? No. Not even a little.” Sam shook his head. “I just think we should talk to him. But not together. He’ll just think we’re ganging up on him.”

“You’re right.” Steve muttered. He rubbed his hands over his face. “You’re right.”

He wouldn’t look at Sam.

Sam hesitated. “Are you sorry?” He didn’t have a lot of time for regrets in his life, and he didn’t like to think Steve might regret what had happened between them. But if he did, nothing Sam could do about that.

“No.” Steve said promptly enough that Sam knew it was true.

“Then what’s eating you?” He knew something was still bugging Steve.

“If I hurt Bucky because of this…” Steve shook his head again. He looked at him, and then away again. “I’m gonna go for a run.” He went back in the bedroom.

Sam just nodded. “Might want to put some pants on first. You don’t need to give people a heart attack.” He reached for his water again.

“I heard that.” Steve pulled his t-shirt down as he came back in the room.

Sam shrugged.

Steve hesitated. “You’ll be okay with me gone?”

“Dude, are you serious? I’m fine. Just go.”

“Okay. I’ll be back.” Steve leaned down and kissed him on the cheek before heading out.

“I’ll be here.” Sam said. He sat back in his chair and touched his neck again.

* * *

Steve ran steadily down the pavement. He knew he wouldn’t find Bucky. Maybe he wasn’t really even looking for him, but he couldn’t just stay there in the house, not after what happened.

He couldn’t believe that Bucky had truly tried to hurt Sam. If it was true, and it was his fault, no matter what Sam said…Steve kept running down the dark street.

* * *

It was still dark when he got back. Steve eased the door open quietly. Sam had gone back to bed. Steve stood there in the doorway, looking at the sleeping man before taking up position on the couch.

* * *

Mid-morning the front door opened and Bucky walked through the front room. Steve stirred on the couch, but Bucky just went straight into his bedroom without looking at him.

“Bucky?” Steve sat up. He looked over at the kitchen where Sam was sitting at the table.

“Just talk to him.” Sam nodded at him. “I’ll be here.”

* * *

In the bedroom Bucky was slinging a t-shirt into the duffel they’d picked out for him, so he’d have somewhere to put his still meager set of possessions. Steve stopped in the doorway, watching him.

“I’ll be out of your hair just as soon as I’ve packed.” Bucky opened another drawer. It had taken him a whole month to unpack. At first he hadn’t seen any point.

“Where’re you going?”

Bucky’s shoulders shrugged a fraction, nothing more than that.

“ _Why’re_ you going?”

“Do I have to spell it out for you?” Bucky looked at him then, then away again. “I know how this goes.”

“Well, then please explain it to me.” Steve leaned against the doorjamb, waiting.

“You’re not gonna want a third party around.” Bucky kept his back to him as he tossed a pair of socks in the bag next.

“Third party.” Steve repeated. “To what?”

“I swear, it’s a good thing they made you pretty.” Bucky zipped up his bag. “Because you’re sure as hell lacking in the brains department.” The words snapped out of him, like machine gun pellets, and they stung, sure, but it also felt like habit, talking like to Steve. Cruel to be kind. Shakespeare had said that. Maybe he was right.

He headed for the door.

“Hold on there.” Steve put out a hand, just shy of touching Bucky. They were still being careful about that. Had been careful about it even before last night, and after last night, well, now Bucky couldn’t blame him at all.

“You think me and Sam are…well, me and Sam?” he added. Even to him that sounded dumb, but he couldn’t think of any other way to put it.

“Looked that way last night.”

“You were watching us.” Steve’s face heated up, but he couldn’t say if it was from embarrassment or the thought of Bucky seeing _that._

“Caught the tail end of the show. You two looked pretty cozy.” Bucky looked down, fingers tightening on the duffel handle. “It’s okay, Steve.”

First name usage. Formal attempt to leave things on even ground. Steve recognized it for what it was.

“Don’t go. Please.”

“Why? What’s the point in staying?”

“Because we’re not like that. We’re…”

“Then maybe you oughta tell him that. Cause it sure looked like it to me.” Bucky brushed past him again.

“Bucky, _Bucky_.” This time Steve couldn’t not touch him. He grabbed Bucky’s arm, pulling him around. “This is idiotic even for you.” He winced even as he said that. There were things he’d have said to the old Bucky without a moment’s thought, and that was one of them. These days he needed to think more before he spoke.

“Steve.” Bucky was tensed as hell, struggling not to fight against the hand holding him. The only reason he wasn’t was because it was Steve.

“One day, Buck, just give me one day to figure this out.”

“And then what?”

“Then if you really want to go, I won’t stop you.”

Bucky’s lips twitched. “But you’ll track me down again.”

“One promise is all you’re getting.” Steve folded his arms. “What do you say?”

“Alright,” Bucky dropped his duffel on the bed. “But I’m going for a walk.” He looked at Steve. “Just a walk.”

“Okay.”

Steve watched him out the door, just the same.

* * *

Sam was in the kitchen making coffee when Steve finally went back in there.

“He’s going for a walk.”

“A perfectly reasonable morning activity.” Sam said. “Want some breakfast?” He nodded at a piece of toast.

Steve shook his head. “I…he doesn’t want to be a third wheel apparently.”

“How’s that?” Sam took a sip of coffee.

“Well, apparently he saw us last night, and now he thinks we’re together.”

If anyone had ever told Sam Wilson one day he’d see Captain America blush, he wouldn’t have bet on it. Now that he had, he wouldn’t have given up the memory for anything.

“Uh-huh. Man, I know it’s been a while, but you guys aren’t kids. Does the concept of casual sex not enter your brains at all?”

“So,” Steve scratched at the back of his neck. “That’s what that was?” It hadn’t felt like that to him, but he knew things had changed since his day. They probably should have talked about it more. Steve didn’t have a problem with it, but it was more than that to him.

“Not even a little.” Sam said. “I’m just saying it’s a thing that exists.”

“So.” Steve said, cleared his throat. “Do you want…I mean…”

“Is this Captain America’s way of asking me to go steady?” Sam took a sip of coffee, amused.

“I guess.” Steve scratched his head.

As much as he wanted to enjoy that moment, Sam had to ask the next question. “And what about Bucky?”

“He’s always gonna be there.” Steve said. “If that’s a problem then…”

“It’s a good thing I like trouble.” Sam sighed.

“This coming from a guy who jumps off buildings with wings attached.” Steve cocked his head at him. “Am I that much trouble?”

“No, but I think your other boyfriend is gonna be.”

“Other boyfriend.” Steve said. His eyes widened. “Sam…”

Steve rolled his eyes. “Oh, for the love of - come on, man, didn’t you know?”

“It’s. We’ve always been just me and Bucky.” That was the way things were.

“Yeah. Always. That’s my point,” Sam said. “In all those stories, even when Bucky had girls, you were the one he came back to. You’re the one he comes back to now.” Every single time Bucky walked out the door Steve was the only reason he came back.

“What’re you saying?”

“I’m saying, if us getting together throws him off this much, I’d don’t know how long it’ll take to get him to trust again. Anyone.” He should have thought about that. Sam rubbed at his temples.

“So you’re saying no.”

Sam sighed. “I’m saying, let’s make sure of what we’re doing before we burn anything.” He looked at his coffee. “What do you want, Steve? Really?”

“You.” Steve said after a moment’s pause.

“And.” Sam prompted. Cause there had to be more to that answer, flattered as he was.

“And Bucky.” Steve flushed. “But he’s my best friend.”

“It’s okay to admit it. It’s okay to fall for your best friend. Although, admittedly, it always provides a unique set of problems.” Sam shrugged. “It generally seems to work out in movies though.”

“So…I have to choose.” Steve clasped cup, staring at it morosely. Maybe that was why he hadn’t wanted to admit anything like this to himself. If he never admitted _how_ he loved Bucky, he’d never to face this problem.

“I never said that.” Sam looked calm as ever.

“What?”

“Now Bucky might want you to, in which case you’ll have to figure that out. But I never said you had to choose.”

Steve went over that a few times in his head just to make sure he’d understood the man. “So now what you’re saying is you’re okay with you and me, _and_ me and Bucky?”

“Yeah.” Sam leaned over. “I’m okay with a lot of things. Not those talking fish people buy to hang on the wall though. Those freak me out.”

“No talking fish.” Steve said. “Got it.”

He hesitated, and then leaned over to kiss Sam, hands curving around the back of his neck.

“I want,” Steve breathed. Was this real? How was he supposed to tell?

“Me too.” Sam’s fingers pulled at the collar of his shirt and then, he sighed. “But for now we better hold off.”

Steve’s sigh was louder than his.

“You still need to explain this to Bucky. Now that you have things halfway figured out.”

“Yeah, what if I’m not ready to do that?”

“Well, you better get ready then.” Sam kissed him again. “You go. I’ve got some work I need to do down at the VA anyway.”

“But you’ll be back.”

“Yeah, Steve, I’ll be back tonight.” Sam smiled.

* * *

Bucky was at the park few blocks from the house. Steve spotted him sitting slouched on one of the benches overlooking the playground. He sat like that a lot these days, reclaiming his body language when it was pure mechanical habit to straighten up.

He sat there, watching Steve walk across the grass towards him.

The fierce pitiful tug of emotion rose up as Bucky swallowed hard. This was it. Steve coming to tell him to go.

Because of course Steve would pick Sam. Sam with his easygoing nature and that smile that made what you said important, even if you were only asking how to connect to the wifi. Sam who was there, constant in the night. Sam who didn’t have to walk until the blankness receded. Sam whose coffee was as sweet as his face.

Bucky didn’t run as Steve stopped in front of him.

“Can I join you?”

Bucky shrugged. Steve sat down on the bench, a few inches from him. Bucky watched him out of the corner of his eye. Steve looked nervous. He hated hurting people. _Shoulda just gone_. Bucky thought, and then Steve wouldn’t have that look now. It was always his fault.

“I don’t want you to go.”

“You and Sam-”

“Are figuring things out.” Steve’s lower lip caught pensively between his teeth. Bucky counted quick automatic numbers until he no longer had the urge to lean over and touch those lips with his thumb.

“What does that mean?” Bucky hated asking questions. It showed a lack of intel, that he didn’t do his job. He should know. In this case, he’s lost.

“It means I want there to be a me and Sam.” Steve leaned his head back, gazing up at the sky before he turned to look at him. “I also want there to be a me and you.”

Bucky knew he loved Steve after the first time he rescued him from a fight in an alley. Steve was eight years old and his nose was bleeding, his legs scraped down to his skinny shins. Bucky had run off the kid who had dared to hurt Steve, and then he’d walked Steve all the way home.

He’d carried that secret throughout his life, and when he remembered Steve, that was the hardest thing to have back. Because now he didn’t have anything to hide behind when Steve looked at him like he was looking now.

He swallowed slow, taking his time with his reply.

“I may have had my memories wiped more times than I can remember, even if I could remember them.” Bucky said at last, “But I know it doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“Well.” Bucky didn’t have a good reason for that. “Because people don’t like to share what’s theirs.”

“So you’re saying I’m yours then.” Steve squinted at him.

“Always have been.” Bucky shrugged matter-of-factly. Comments like that were habit. He couldn’t break them now.

This was the moment to give in. He didn’t take it, stretching his arm along the back of the bench instead. His metal arm, covered by his jacket, but still there.

“And all those girls before.” Steve murmured.

“Hey, you can’t blame me for those. That was the way the world was then.”

“But you liked them.”

“Yeah. I think I did.” He still liked women now. “It was safer just to choose them because…” I didn’t want you to get hurt.

“Because?” Steve waited patiently and Bucky’s throat was so tight it hurt when he breathed.

“Because I couldn’t have you.” There. He’d said it. The aftermath of the moment was the absolute stillness of the day around them.

“Now you can.” Steve’s eyes were steady.

“And Sam?” Bucky said.

“Are you really gonna make me choose?” Steve whispered, his eyes on Bucky’s mouth.

“No. You mean he’s okay with this?” Bucky leaned back, an uncomfortable laugh escaping him. “Of course he is. Perfect at everything, isn’t he?”

“No. I think he’s just used to people being complicated and accepts that.” Steve said. “I’m still wrapping my head around wanting two men at the same time.” There was a slight flush at his neck as he said the words.

It was real. Today was real, and Steve sitting beside him was real. The sunlight was hot on his neck, and Steve was right there, close enough to touch. “So you want me then?”

“Always.” Steve said.

This time he didn’t leave the moment empty. He leaned in, his hand on Bucky’s chest as his mouth touched Bucky’s, drowning in his lips.

Bucky turned into the kiss, his metal hand gripping Steve’s shoulder.

Steve’s hand wrapped around the back of his neck, drawing him in. Part of him was aware that they were sitting on a bench in a park in plain sight. The other part of him was stuck on kissing Bucky and how that felt. Bucky’s lips, unbearably soft against his – the taste of him, the sensation of his tongue curling around Steve’s. The breath of a murmur that crossed his lips and touched Steve’s.

“Steve.”

“Yeah.” Steve breathed, kissing him again.

“Okay,” He breathed hard, keeping calm. Steve was kissing him. “Okay.” It was still real.

At that Steve pulled back a little. “You sure?”

“Shut up and kiss me again.” Who needed to breathe when Steve Rogers was kissing them? Steve kissed him again and this time it was harder to break away. Steve’s breath was ragged, his lips slightly swollen from Bucky’s mouth. Bucky gazed at that, and spread his legs a little, painfully aroused. Hadn’t felt that in a while. He barely remembered what that was like.

“Uh,” Steve licked his lips. “Maybe we should take this elsewhere.”

“You think?” Bucky muttered.

Steve laughed, and stood, “Come on.” He held out his hand, and Bucky took it.

* * *

They walked back to the house, side by side in silence. For once Steve didn’t worry about that.

Once inside Steve closed the door behind them. “Sam’s at the VA.”

Bucky gave him a look. “Giving us privacy.”

Steve shrugged, awkwardness returning. It felt more like Sam wanted a break from all the stupid shit going through his head. He knew that wasn’t the case.

Now that they were alone again, he wasn’t sure how to proceed. This was Bucky. Steve knew him better than anyone, but things were never going to be the same again no matter how much he wished it. It wasn’t even that he was really wishing for. He just wanted Bucky to be okay.

“Want coffee?” He broke the silence, heading for the kitchen.

Bucky watched him get it going before finally answering. “I don’t want any coffee.”

Steve looked at him over his shoulder. He turned around as Bucky walked over to him.

Bucky's right hand pulled tentatively at his hip, and then there wasn't anything tentative anymore. They leaned into it, hard against each other. Bucky growled softly in his throat as his lips nuzzled at Steve's. His tongue traced from his jaw to his chin, and up over his lips again. His left hand was on Steve's back, the coolness of the metal the only thing stark amongst the haze in Steve's mind. He pulled Bucky closer between his legs, hungry for this, hungry for Bucky.

"You always." Bucky broke off.

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Tell me." Steve stroked his cheek.

"That." Bucky turned his face inwards towards that hand, seeking the reassurance he so desperately needed thorough touch. "You know me." Even now, when he was nothing but a shell, his body knew Steve, even if his brain shorted out.

"I like to think so." Steve whispered.

His dick stirred again and Bucky looked down.

"We don't have to."

At that Bucky pulled away.

"Bucky."

"No I get it. It's less appealing when you're not in one piece." They hadn’t talked about it, but it was what he thought every time he looked in the mirror.

"Hey,” Steve caught at his hand, “that's not it and you know it." He looked pissed, and the sight sent cold relief all the way through Bucky. Of course it wouldn’t matter to Steve.

Steve still looked mad, and Bucky wanted to test that, push at him until he knew for sure.

“You sure about that?” Bucky nudged him back against the table, and Steve caught his lip between his teeth as Bucky’s metal hand moved over him, unzipping his pants.

“You mean that?” Bucky’s eyes were relentless. “You’re okay with this?” He gave Steve a squeeze, forcing a groan out of him.

“Buck,” His head fell back, hips canting upward. Bucky’s grip was just right, even as the metal was cold on Steve’s sensitive flesh. His eyes were focused on Steve's face as he jerked him off.

Steve came with a jerky, gasping spasm that left his come across Bucky’s hand.

Steve lay there on the table, trying to regain his breath. Bucky just looked at him, and licked at his hand.

“You-“ Steve watched in shock as Bucky cleaned his hand of Steve’s come. It was filthy and the way Bucky looked at him was so familiar it made his heart ache. How had he missed this? He’d always known he loved Bucky, he just hadn’t known how.

Now, now, he couldn’t tell Bucky how much he loved him without fear of sending him running again.

Steve sat up, pulling Bucky into a deep kiss, fingers tangling in his hair. Bucky rested his forehead against Steve’s, breathing in the moment.

When he finally stepped back, Steve was relieved to see how serene his eyes looked.

“About before.” Bucky looked uncomfortable.

“That’s okay…don’t worry about it.” Steve grinned. “But uh…you might want to really clean your hand before dinner.”

Bucky just looked at him, and then snorted with laughter.

Steve had to get up and pretend he was seeing to the coffee to hide how much that meant to him. Just the sound of Bucky laughing made him grin like an idiot.

* * *

By the time Sam got home that night, Steve had supper going. The smell of spaghetti filled the small house. Steve turned the heat down as he nodded to Steve.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Sam nodded to him. “How’s things?”

“Things are…good.” Steve said.

“Good.” Sam glanced around.

“He’s in the shower.” Steve answered his unspoken question.

"Alrighty then." Sam leaned against the counter.

"How was the VA?"

"Same as usual." Sam leaned over to stick his finger in the sauce. "Not bad."

"Such praise." Steve mocked as he removed the pot from the hot burner.

"I just call 'em like I see 'em." Sam told him.

Steve snorted.

Sam looked up to see Bucky standing in the doorway, drying his hair with a towel. He nodded to him. Bucky nodded back, eyes flicking from him to Steve. He turned and went back in the bathroom.

 

  * * *

Dinner was a quiet affair. After everything that had been said earlier, Steve wasn’t sure what to say next.

Sam took a sip of water and cleared his throat. “I think I’m gonna take off for a few days, see my mom.” He’d been meaning to for a while, and now it seemed like a good idea to give Steve and Bucky some additional space, even if things were going as well as Steve seemed to think they were. He cleared his place, taking his plate up to the sink. “I owe her a visit.”

“You sure?” Steve’s eyes followed him around the kitchen. Bucky couldn’t stand it.

“You don’t have to.”

They both looked at him and he concentrated on his plate, half empty, just like him.

“I thought it might be a good idea.” Sam said at last. “But I could always put it off for a while.” He was watching Bucky. _Watch Steve, not me_ , Bucky wanted to scream. _He’s the one who mattered here._

“Sounds good.” Steve said, looking between them. “Whatta you say, Buck?”

“Pass the bread.” Bucky said. Then, when Steve’s face fell. “Please.”

* * *

That night Bucky went to his single room out of habit. Steve couldn’t decide if he was relieved that things seemed about the same, or if he was hurt that Bucky hadn’t wanted to bunk with him. He decided finally on the former, because there wasn’t much point to the other.

He stripped down to his boxers and turned around to find Sam watching him from his bed.

“I think it’s all right for now.” Sam said, folding his arms behind his head.

“Is that right?” Steve cocked his head at him.

“If Bucky wanted to be in here right now, he’d be in here.”

“I guess you’re right.” Steve settled on his bed.

“That doesn’t mean you have to sleep all the way over there.” Sam said, casual-like.

Steve grinned and got into bed with him. “That better?”

“Yeah,” Sam snaked an arm around his waist. “I’d say so.”

* * *

A few days passed like that. Things continued on, near about same as before. Steve sketched and looked up new recipes. Bucky fixed the swing set in the backyard so he could do chin-ups from it.

Sam worked at the VA most afternoons. He went to the library once, but there were no self-help books for managing relationships like this. He went to the store, bought a case of beer and went back to the house.

There was still the matter of sleeping arrangements. Bucky had kept going back to his own room night after night. Now Sam wasn’t so sure about what he’d said. He’d thought Bucky understood how things were, but now he got the feeling that Bucky wasn’t so sure of anything. Not that he didn’t enjoy having Steve to himself, but it wasn’t 100% how he wanted things.

The uncertainty was getting to everyone. That night at dinner Steve spent an overly long time over his meatloaf. Bucky scraped at his plate, not saying a word. Sam wondered if any of this was worth it.

Steve finally got up. “I’m gonna take a shower.” He left the room without looking at either of them.

Bucky watched him go, and turned to see Sam looking at him. Sam reached into his pocket and drew out a quarter.

“Flip you for who joins him.” Sam said. “Heads or tails.”

“You serious?”

“Somebody’s gotta lighten the mood around here.” Sam shrugged. “Steve’s afraid of scaring you off and losing you and you,” he gave Bucky that long look again.

“What about me?”

“You’re afraid of losing him.” Sam said gently. “But you don’t have to.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because he’s got your back first and foremost. If he had known there was a chance you could be pulled out of that ravine alive, he would have been first in line to dig through the snow. You’re gonna have Steve for the rest of your life, you just have to let him be yourself.”

“Am I keeping him from what he wants?” Bucky demanded.

Sam shrugged. “Just that Steve’s never gonna let himself be happy unless he knows you’re okay.”

Bucky said nothing. Then, “Heads.”

Sam’s face split into a grin and he tossed the quarter. It spun in the air. Bucky counted the beats of drawing his gun that he didn’t wear any more, shooting it, and then it landed with a flat smack in Sam’s palm.

“Looks like you’re the lucky one.” He said at last. “Heads it is.”

Bucky glanced at the door, unsure now. He thought about that afternoon, kissing Steve in the park, touching him in the kitchen.

“Go on.” Sam said.

The walk down the hall felt endless. Bucky took a deep breath and opened the bathroom door. Steve had his back to him, shower running. Bucky pulled his shirt off and froze, his arm staring back at him in the mirror.

“Coulda at least knocked.” Steve said, without turning around.

His reflection didn’t waver. Bucky gazed at it mutely.

“Hey,” Steve turned. “Bucky?”

The man in the mirror was broken, sure. He still wanted Steve.

“Steve.” His hands shook as he slipped his jeans off, discarding his boxers.

He stepped into the shower.

“You sure?” Steve breathed.

“Stop asking me that.” Bucky gripped his neck and kissed him, words dissolving on his tongue.

The spray hit his skin. Steve was just as hard as he was. Bucky’s hands rand own his back, pulling him closer, Steve leaned into him, matching Bucky in eagerness, kissing back.

Bucky licked along his jaw, along his throat, water ran down his face, into his mouth. _Steve in the water_ , _sinking further and further, just out of his reach_. There was a blur between his eyes and he reached out, grabbing Steve’s arm hard.

“Hey. Hey, Bucky, it’s okay.” Steve held him close, comforting him. Bucky licked his lips and pressed his face into the crook of Steve’s shoulder.

Now he knew, without a doubt, why he hadn’t been able to leave Steve there in the water. Even when everything in him was screaming _Finish it_. He couldn’t. He breathed in the wet clean scent of Steve, steadying himself.

“You okay?” Steve asked.

He pulled away. “Not right now. Steve. Just…let it go.” He left Steve there in the shower.

Steve resisted the urge to go after him. Instead he just stood under the spray, head hanging low.

* * *

Sam found Bucky sitting barefoot on the back stoop. He watched him a moment, before getting a beer and going out after him.

Bucky didn’t look at him as he sat on the step beside him. Sam took a sip of beer, watching the fireflies in the grass.

“You mean what you said earlier?” Bucky asked at last.

“Yeah.”

“Seems to me you both might have been better off if you had left it alone.” Bucky squinted out at the dark. “Why help him find me?”

Sam shrugged. “What was I gonna do? Let him go off alone?”

"But why'd you go with him? Why'd you even come after me?"

"Because I knew what he was going through." Sam said. "If there had been even the slightest chance." He stopped and took another sip of beer instead if finishing that sentence.

Bucky just looked at him.

Sam looked back at him. “You could have let him go in the water, but you didn’t.”

No, he couldn’t. “It was instinct. The first real thing that I felt in I don’t know how long.” He hadn't even realized Steve knew it was him that had done that until about a month into being at the house. He wondered when Steve had told Sam.

“You’ve got good instincts.” Sam told him.

Maybe once, Bucky thought. Now his instincts were brittle and brutal. The only ones that he trusted were the ones pointing to Steve.

“You remember when you pulled my wings, brought me down?”

“Yeah, that I remember.” Bucky shifted away, and Sam put a hand on his knee.

“Hey, I’m not trying to…I just brought that up because at that point I thought you were someone we had to stop. And then when you brought him up from the water, I knew I was wrong.” When he had known Steve was heading after Bucky, he'd gone along because it was the right thing to do.

Bucky’s knee trembled under his touch. His whole body started shaking. He wrapped his arms around himself, head tucked low.

“Hey, hey,” Sam’s voice was gentle. “Thing will get better.” He put his arms around him, and Bucky held himself stone for one minute before leaning in.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, with Sam’s arms around him, just holding him until the tremors had ceased. Bucky listened to the night breeze in the tree, and the cricket off in the grass. He let Sam hold him, until everything faded away and there was only the comforting warmth of the embrace.

Finally Bucky straightened up, limbs heavy and worn with exhaustion. Sam smiled at him. Bucky didn’t have anything to say. He felt like he could sleep right then and there, drained down to his bones.

“I don’t know about you, but my butt is numb.” Sam announced. “Inside?”

Bucky nodded.

Inside though, he stopped, looking at the door to the main bedroom. There was a light under the door. Steve was still awake. Bucky just gazed at it.

“He’s been waiting for you all week.” Sam nodded at the bedroom door. “No pressure. If you want to sleep in the other room, Steve will get it. I just wanted to make sure you knew it was all right whichever one you chose.”

“What about you?”

“I’m gonna finish the game, and then I’ll hit the hay.” Sam’s hand squeezed his shoulder, warm and steady. “Wherever is fine.”

Bucky nodded, and looked at the door to the bedroom.

He took a deep breath and pushed it open.

Steve looked up from where he was reading in bed. He was shirtless, sheets pooled lazily to his hips.

Bucky swallowed. “This okay?”

“Yeah.” Steve said. “Here.”

He moved over and let Bucky get in beside him under the sheets. Bucky lay on his side, and after a moment, Steve put his arm around him. Bucky leaned back against his chest and closed his eyes. Steve reached over him and turned out the light.

Bucky spent that night lying in the dark, Steve’s arm wrapped around him. He still couldn’t sleep, but it was the most peaceful sleepless night he’d had in weeks.

 * * *

The next morning Steve woke to find Bucky still there in bed with him. He skimmed a hand over his hip and pressed a kiss to his shoulder.

Bucky glanced over his shoulder at him.

“I wish I could stay.” Steve said. “But I have that meeting.”

Bucky rolled to his eyes. “Don’t be late.” He leaned up and brushed his lips to Steve’s before getting out of bed. Steve laid there for another moment, thinking how natural that felt. Having Bucky there with him was how things belonged.

He didn’t want to go to the meeting and discuss things with the current board. It was none of their business how Bucky was doing. Still, the sooner he got it over with, the sooner it’d be done.

* * *

Bucky went for a run around the neighborhood, for the first time not bothering to cover up his arm. To be fair most people were still asleep, but it was still a step. He felt exposed, but he kept going until he finished his run.

Once back at the house he drank a glass of water and gave himself a few minutes break before continuing his workout.

Sam emerged from the shower while he was in the middle of a set of sit-ups, taking a seat on the couch with his coffee.

Bucky finished and pushed himself up to sit on the coffee table. His hair fell over his forehead as he tugged at one of his socks.

“You should do something with that hair, man.” Sam touched his messy ponytail for an instant. Bucky looked up, fingertips brushing over his cheek, sensation racing up his skin.

Sam started to move back, but Bucky’s hand was on his, stopping him. Sam left his coffee on the table.

Bucky leaned in and Sam didn’t move away. His mouth brushed over Sam’s lower lip, testing, waiting for Sam to say something. Sam gave an appreciative murmur. His fingers pulled lightly on Bucky’s hair. Bucky’s tongue traced over his lip, and then they were on the couch, Bucky stretched out atop Sam.

Sam’s hands were on his ass, holding him as they kissed. Bucky’s hair brushed his face, tickling him, making Sam laugh.

* * *

That night it was Sam’s turn to cook and this time he made Bucky help. He was baking salmon in some kind of sauce while Bucky fixed the salad. Bucky chopped up the lettuce until Sam took it away from him and gave him some peppers instead.

Steve raised an eyebrow when he walked into the house. “Something smells good.”

“It’ll be ready in five minutes.” Sam told him.

“Just give me a sec to wash up.” Steve down the hall to the bathroom.

Bucky set the salad on the table and looked after him. Steve didn’t say anything about the meeting, and he didn’t want to ask. Sam gave him a look that said _everything will be all right._ Bucky wasn’t so sure of that.

Steve came back and they all sat down at the table.

“The fish is good.” Steve remarked.

“My mom’s recipe.” Sam told him. “You roll each one in butter and then bake ‘em on a bed of rice.”

“I kissed Sam.” Bucky said.

There was a moment’s silence. Steve swallowed his bite and stared at him.

“Well, okay that was one way to introduce the subject.” Sam said.

“So.” Steve looked at them. “How’d that go?”

Bucky shrugged. “I liked it.”

“Thanks for that.” Sam said. “Steve, what,”

“How about you?” Steve interrupted.

“Me?”

“You attracted to him?” He nodded at Bucky.

Bucky’s face heated up as he stared at his plate.

“You gonna make me say that out loud?” Sam protested. “He knows.”

“Does he?” Steve prodded. If there was thing he'd learned over the last few weeks it was you to make sure people knew what you meant, otherwise there was no guarantee they had the faintest idea.

“If we were at a bar, I’d have bought him a drink, made a move, all that jazz.” Steve waved his hand.

“Because you’re attracted to him.”

Sam muttered something under his breath. “Yes, because I’m attracted to him.”

“Okay then.” Steve put a spoonful of rice in his mouth. "Good recipe. Your mom got any more?"

“Just like that.” Sam eyed him.

Steve shrugged. “If you two want to argue more, go ahead.”

“I’d rather go to bed.” Sam said, eyes still on Steve.

Steve swallowed, looking at Bucky. “Buck?”

“Yeah, we got some unfinished business.” Bucky stated.

“I don’t know about that, seems you finished okay.” Sam smirked at him. Bucky resisted the urge to chuck his fork at him.

Steve’s eyebrows rose. “Must have been some kiss.”

“Yeah, you could learn a thing or two.” Sam patted his shoulder as he got up.

“Wise guy, huh.”

“You better believe it.” Sam put his dish in the sink, rinsing it before he headed to the bedroom.

Now it was just the two of them. Steve looked at Bucky.

"Last one in is a rotten egg." Bucky murmured.

Steve blinked. "What?"

"Used to say that to you when we were jumping in the water." Pieces of Coney Island flitted through his mind, nothing but salt in the air, hot pavement underneath their bare feet, and Steve grinning at him.

"You remember that?"

"Yeah." He wished he'd kept his mouth shut now. If Steve made a big deal out if it...

"Huh." Steve shrugged. "Don't really see how it's relevant here, but," he grinned. "Not it."

"Not so fast." Bucky grabbed at him before Steve could make a break from the table. Steve turned sharply and they fell into each other, holding each other up.

Steve's laugh was easy and comfortable and Bucky couldn't wait any longer. He pulled at Steve's hips.  
"Come on."

Steve let himself be led into the bedroom. Bucky stopped abruptly, Steve bumping into his shoulder.  
Sam finished pulling off his shirt and looked at them. "I miss something?"

He was perfect. Bucky swallowed. Him and Steve.

"You're just fine, Buck," Steve murmured, kissing his hair.

Bucky nodded.

Sam tossed his shirt aside. "More than fine," he drawled, giving Bucky that smile as he peeled off his pants. He reached out, sliding his fingers up Bucky's arm. "This here, doesn't change that. Any of that.” He reached for Bucky’s sleeves, drawing his shirt up over his head. Bucky let him, feeling his skin prickle as his shirt was removed.

The directness of Sam’s gaze warmed his skin. Sam’s hands moved down over his hips, undoing his pants just as easily, grinning at him as he pulled those down. Bucky stepped out of them, catching Steve’s eye over Sam’s shoulder.

Steve was just standing there, ostensibly getting undressed, but mostly watching the ease with which Sam was managing this. Handling Bucky. He wanted that ease. Once he’d had it, but between the winter soldier, and the realization of the depths of his feelings, it had slipped away. He wanted that back, as much as of it as he could get.

He looked at Bucky and it propelled him into action. Steve stripped off his shirt and tossed it aside, watching Bucky watch him. His pants were next. Now they were all down to their underwear.

“Wait,” Steve said, eyes on Bucky.

Sam paused, moving to one side.

Steve moved over to where Bucky stood. “Can I?” His hand brushed Bucky’s stomach, gently, hesitant.

“Go on,” Bucky whispered, his eyes never leaving Steve’s face. Slowly Steve drew his briefs down. Bucky kicked them aside, and then Steve’s hands were on his hips, holding him as Steve kissed him. Fumbling, nervous – Steve nervous made Bucky grin. He’d forgotten how nervous Steve could get, and uppity he got if you ever dared mentioned it.

“Bucky.” Steve’s teeth caught his lip and Bucky groaned, reaching for Steve.

Sam kissed his neck, a reminder that he wasn’t alone here. Steve was right there with him, they both were.

He slipped his hands inside Steve’s shorts, pulling them off.

Steve sucked in a breath as Bucky’s hands bypassed his crotch. He remembered how Bucky had kissed him in the park. The last few days he’d thought about it a lot, wondering if it would ever happen again. Now he knew.

He looked at Sam, and reached out a hand for him, tugging him closer. Sam laughed as he pulled at his briefs.

“Alright, everybody’s naked now. Satisfied?”

“Not even close.” Steve cupped his face in his palms as he leaned in. He had a hunch what it would take to make Sam lose his cool. He wanted to see if he was right.

Sam’s lips parted under his willingly. Steve’s tongue grazed over his teeth, curling over his own tongue playfully. He pulled Sam closer, stroking his hands down his back until there was a long indrawn breath and Sam leaned back.

“Alright, we get the picture.” His eyes darkened. "You can kiss."

Steve licked his lips, grinning.

There was a hand on his back, lightly stroking his spine. He turned his head and there was Bucky, just gazing at Sam. Steve leaned in, his lips on Bucky’s.

“Come on.” His voice was husky.

Steve drew him over to the bed, hands settling on Bucky’s hips. “This is where you belong, Buck. Right here.” His thumbs stroked over Bucky’s hipbones as he leaned in to press a kiss to Bucky’s torso.

Bucky stood still as Steve did this. He shivered at the feel of Steve’s lips on his bare skin.

“I want you.” Steve whispered, kissing his stomach next. His lips traveled over Bucky’s hipbone, sending thick heat rushing straight to Bucky’s dick.

“Tell me.” Bucky whispered back. He’d hoped in vain for Steve to say that for so long. He wanted to hear every last word.

“In me.” Steve’s fingers stroked down his length. “-want you to fuck me, Buck.”

Bucky bit his lip as Steve’s grip on him tightened. “Least you could do is say please.”

Sam snickered at that.

Steve reached for a pillow and threw at it him. Sam just ducked.

“Alright, I’m asking nice. Please.” Steve looked up at him, every line of his face earnest and hopeful.

Bucky traced his thumb over that mouth, watching as Steve’s eyelashes fluttered closed for a second.

“Whatever you want.” Bucky’s throat was dry. Whatever he had, it was Steve’s to take.

Steve smiled. Reluctantly he let go of Bucky to lean over and open the bedside table drawer, fumbling for the lube he’d dropped in there.

Bucky sat down on the bed, glancing at Sam. He knew they’d fucked already. Sam made it look easy.

Sam leaned in, stroking his thumb over the back of Bucky’s neck. “Just relax.” He kissed Bucky’s metal shoulder.

“Easy for you to say.” Bucky grumbled. This was _Steve._ He’d dreamed of this his whole life. Sam had known Steve for how long?

“It’ll be fine, Buck.” Steve assured him. He held up the lube. “You want to do this, or you want me to?”

Bucky’s throat tightened. “You,” he managed. If Steve knew how much he loved his hands in motion, he’d never hear the end of it. He didn’t dare look at Sam.

Steve leaned back on the bed, spreading his legs as he slicked his hands. Sam settled down on his right, watching him, watching Bucky. Bucky sat back between Steve’s legs, concentrating on Steve’s face as he eased his forefinger slowly in.

If he could draw, he’d draw Steve’s face like this – utterly focused, intent on this, and then the brief look Steve gave him, that let Bucky knew Steve knew _exactly_ what this did to him. Steve’s finger moved a little quicker, stretching himself. He grunted slightly as he added another.

Finally he removed them, looking up at Bucky. “Ready?”

Bucky nodded, not trusting himself to speak now. He crawled over Steve, as Steve reached out slicked fingers for him. He stroked over Bucky’s dick, grinning at him.

Bucky’s hand caught his wrist. “That’s enough.”

The tip of his dick pushed between Steve’s legs. Steve shivered. _Just relax,_ Bucky told himself, watching Steve’s face as he inched inside him, taking his time. Halfway and Steve just stroked up his arm, telling him silently to come on.

Bucky slid a little further inside, and then, further, until he was all the way in and Steve was under him, looking up at him.

Steve slid his hands up Bucky’s arms, then down over his chest, holding him. He looked sideways at Sam, who just smiled at him. “You’re good.”

He rolled gently onto his side, shifting position, still inside Steve, back to Sam.

“Bucky.” Steve’s hand moved down his chest, gripping his hip.

Bucky leaned back against Sam as Steve kissed him. Sam had his back, and Steve held him there in his arms. Steve’s legs wrapped around his and Bucky thrust – the world went silent around him. He watched as Steve moved against him, felt Sam’s fingers in his hair, caressing his skin. There was a rush of white behind his eyes- _snow falling on his face, and the cold surrounding him faded into darkness_. Sound returned, and Steve was saying his name, as his dick rubbed against Bucky’s belly.

He reached down with his good hand and touched him, marveling at the way Steve responded. He was never gonna get over this.

Steve’s fingers dug into his hip, hard enough to bruise. ”I’m close, Buck, just-“

He kept stroking him, wanting Steve to come first. It coated his palm and he wiped it away without looking away from Steve’s face. Steve gazed at him, “Come on.”

Bucky rolled them over so he was on top.

“Steve.” He couldn’t stop saying it. “Steve.”

“Right here, Buck.” Steve reached up to touch his cheek. Bucky leaned into his palm, smelling Steve’s scent as he moved.

Steve’s legs tightened around him. “Come on.”

Bucky’s hair fell over his forehead as he pulled out lightly, and then thrust back in. Steve arched up to meet him, holding Bucky inside him. He kissed the curve of Steve’s neck, licking his way down his collarbone and then, as it started to overwhelm him again, all of it, the darkness, all those empty years rushing past him in a blur, his teeth sank into Steve’s skin.

“Fuck!” Steve shouted, digging his short nails hard into Bucky’s back. He tightened possessively around Bucky, and Bucky came in a haze, sweaty, and spent. There was only Steve now. The rest of it, let it go to hell, let it burn. He was here.

He rolled over on his back, staring at the ceiling. Sam’s hands skimmed down over his stomach as Steve looked at him.

“You all right?”

“Yeah.” Bucky murmured. For once it didn’t even feel like a lie. He looked at Steve, and then he looked at Sam.

“What, don’t give me that look.” Sam waved his hand at him. “The nice thing about being the young one here, is that I don’t have to worry about you two recovering any time soon.” He yawned. “Means I’ll actually get some sleep tonight.”

Steve threw Bucky a look. “Is that right?”

“Yeah.” Sam yawned again, putting an arm over his eyes.

“I don’t think that’s how it works.” Steve told him. He glanced at Bucky. “Whatta you say we show this youngster a thing or two?”

Bucky shrugged. “Seems like he does need a lesson in respecting his elders.”

“Screw you.” Sam told him.

“Grab his hands.” Steve mouthed at Bucky who nodded.

They moved quickly, Steve seizing Sam’s legs and Bucky capturing his hands.

“What the fuck,” Sam managed, but they just rolled him over on his stomach. Steve held his legs prisoner while Bucky kept his arms secure above his head.

“You bastards, let go.”

“Is that any way to talk to your elders?” Steve skimmed a nail down Sam’s spine, watching him shiver at the touch.

“Just what do you think you’re doing?” Sam turned his head, mock-glaring at Bucky.

“Teaching you a lesson.” Bucky grinned at him.

“Seems to me, I’ve been the one doing the tutoring around here.” Sam informed him.

“Yeah, about that.” Steve’s voice was almost lazy. “You kids today think you invented sex.” His hand palmed Sam’s left cheek, squeezing it gently. “I think it’s high time we disproved you of that notion.”

Sam squirmed slightly in Bucky’s grip as Steve’s hands spread over his cheeks. “What’re you-”

Bucky watched as Steve licked down between them. A low groan escape Sam’s lips as Steve’s tongue dipped lower. He pushed back against Steve’s mouth.

Fuck, he had no idea Steve was so filthy. Sam bit his tongue against the next groan threatening to escape. Steve’s tongue circled his hole, pushing inside him. Fingers tangled in his hair and Sam looked up. Bucky grinned at him, before leaning to kiss his jaw, working his way down to Sam’s mouth. Steve snuck a hand around Sam’s hip, stroking his cock in time with his tongue. Sam shuddered, and Bucky’s teeth tugged on his lower lip.

“Mhm,” Sam groaned, spilling across Steve’s hand, Bucky’s smirk lost in his kiss.

Steve sat back on his knees, gazing down at him in satisfaction. Sam turned on his side, resting his head against Bucky’s thigh.

“Well?”

“All right, I admit it. You knew a thing or two in your day.”

Steve grinned. “Nice to hear.” He got up off the bed. “And don’t you forget it.”

Sam stayed where he was, feeling lazy and sated. Bucky’s fingers were still playing in his hair as he leaned back against the headboard. He listened to the sound of the faucet running in the bathroom.

Steve came back, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Now you can go to sleep if you’re so tired.”

“Come here, old man.” Sam yawned.

This time Bucky hit him with the pillow before stretching out.

Steve settled on the bed and turned off the light. He draped his arm over Bucky, fingers touching Sam’s thigh.

“We’re gonna need a bigger bed.” Sam murmured.

Steve grinned into Bucky’s shoulder. He wasn’t wrong.

They fell asleep like that, all together. Even Bucky.

* * *

Steve took the call automatically out of habit. “Nat, how’s things?”

“You tell me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He closed the front door quietly behind him. It was still early, but it was two blocks to the deli. He could do with the walk.

“It means I have a notion that something’s up with you.”

"As a matter of fact," Steve sighed. "Had a meeting with the council yesterday."

"Oh yeah?"

"It didn't go so well."

Natasha waited.

"They want me to come back in. I kinda told them to go to hell."

"Sounds about right." She murmured. "This about Bucky?"

"Yeah. They want him under closer observation." Steve rubbed a hand at his forehead. "He's good where he is. He's doing better. As long as he's okay, I don't want them anywhere near him."

"What're you gonna do?"

"Wait and see."

"You know to call if you need help."

Steve smiled. "You're on speed-dial."

"Good." Nat said. "So what else is going on?"

“I thought there weren’t any cameras at my place.”

She gave a low chuckle and Steve smiled. “No official ones, anyway.”

“Well, if there were, you’d already have the story.” Early was Steve’s favorite time of day. He liked the quiet. That and sundown, when the day seeped away into the melting haze of night.

“Why don’t you tell it to me anyway?” She suggested.

“Remember how you were encouraging me to date a while back?”

“That’s one way to put it.” Nat’s voice was dry.

“Well, I seem to have a situation.”

“You need extraction?”

“I’ll let you know.” He was quiet for a moment. “But really, Nat…suppose I were to tell you I was seeing somebody?”

“I’d say congrats and do I know them?”

Steve cleared his throat. “Funny, you happen to use that pronoun. As a matter of fact you do know them.”

At the other end of the line Natasha waited, five seconds away from rolling her eyes. This came as no surprise to anyone to Steve, and the only reason it was a surprise to him was that earnest reluctance to ruin what he and Bucky already had.

She waited, wondering if they knew how rare of a man they had on their hands.

“Sam says he’s okay with it.” Steve said finally. He was at the deli now, but it seemed rude to go inside and keep talking. He eyed the bakery display through the window. Strudel looked good.

“And Bucky?” Nat prompted after a moment.

Steve focused next on a chocolate éclair. “He seems to be okay. I mean, he was still asleep when I left.”

“Do you mean to tell me you left him asleep, them both asleep?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to disturb them.”

Nat choked on her laughter. “You’re priceless. I hope you’re picking up something special to take back to them.”

“Pastries good enough?”

“Personally I’d go for a bottle of Jack, but I guess it’s a little early for that.”

“Maybe later.” Steve smiled. “When are you gonna be in town next?”

“Should be back in a few days hopefully. Am I getting an invite to dinner?”

“If you’re good with spaghetti.”

“Works for me.”

There was a faint noise in the background. “Steve, I have to go. See you Friday.”

“Friday it is. Hey, Nat?”

“Yeah?”

“Take care.”

“Say hi to the boys for me.” She hung up.

Steve took his time going over the bakery selection. At last he filled a bag with an assortment and took them up to the counter.

* * *

Sam rolled over and found the bed empty. He’d often been the one to wake up first, so that wasn’t any kind of real surprise, but when there had been two other people there with him, he’d expected at least someone to wake up alongside of him.

He pulled on his boxers and went out to the kitchen to put the coffee on.

Bucky was doing pushups in the middle of the living room floor. Sam watched him a moment from the doorway. Sweatpants loose on his hips, undershirt baring his arms, Bucky looked almost relaxed. Well, for somebody doing pushups.

“Damn, but you old guys are active early in the morning.” Sam yawned.

Bucky finished his set and looked up. “Like you ever sleep in.” He sat up, hair falling in his eyes once again. This time Sam just appreciated it, and what it had led to yesterday.

“Would if I could.” Sam told him.

He went back in the kitchen, impatient for the coffee to be done. Bucky followed him.

Sam looked out the window. Morning was coming up along the back alley. Sun had already dried the dew on the grass. In the distance he could hear somebody putting their trash out, the thump of the lids settling back onto the cans. Neighbor’s car starting up as they pulled out of their driveway.

"You know what I miss?" Sam said. "The quiet."

"Then why'd you start talking?"

"Steve was right, you are a smartass." Sam shook his head. "No, I miss what I loved about it, the peacefulness. Now there's silence, and I'm always waiting for what's gonna break it. What comes next." He looked out the window again, missing the look Bucky gave him. "I want that peacefulness back."

"That’s why you kissed Steve."

Sam looked at him, surprised.

"When you look at him, you see peace." Bucky said quietly, gazing down at his hands.

"I see Steve." Sam said.

Bucky just nodded, attention drifting to the open door. Sam watched him. Bucky was right. There was peace when he looked at Steve, not just when he kissed him, but all the time.

Sam just shook his head at himself for his fool thoughts. _You, Sam Wilson, picked a hell of a time to fall in love._ Maybe that’s how it was supposed to go.

* * *

“Hey.” Steve closed the screen door, looking at both of them. “I got breakfast.” He held up the bag.

“Bout time.” Sam said. “I’m starved.”

“Me too.” Bucky said.

They sat down to breakfast, the three of them.

* * *

It wasn’t that easy all the time of course. Bucky still had empty nights. He didn’t sleep in with Steve every night or Sam for that matter. Some nights there was never enough space. There was only waiting and hoping, and a new day to try again.

He went through Steve’s sketch book one afternoon. He expected there to be a few sketches of him from the past, nostalgic remnants of Steve’s memories of those days, amongst pictures of Sam.

Instead Bucky was surprised. Inside the book were sketches of him now, complete with the metal arm, him working out, him crouched by the window, reading, hair swept back, looking over his shoulder. They were realistic too. Steve hadn’t glossed over anything, it was just him, but in Steve’s hands, he looked less brittle, more natural. As though he had stripped off a layer and let Bucky breathe. For the first time in years, he could breathe easy. Somehow Steve had picked up on that.

Steve had always been good at things like that though. Always knew what was going on with someone. The things that had come back to Bucky first, bits and pieces bundled together, were mostly about Steve. He’d rescued a kitten once, from a drainpipe in an alley, scaling up the dented rusted pipe without hesitation when Bucky knew it wouldn’t hold his weight. Steve just stuffed the kitten inside his jacket and climbed back down again. Bucky had waited at the bottom, arms ready to catch him when he fell.

Steve hadn’t fallen that day. He hadn’t fallen half the time. Bucky had just always been prepared for when he did.

“Find something you were looking for?”

Bucky looked up to see Steve leaning in the doorway, hands in his pockets.

“Not really.” He set the sketchbook aside and got to his feet. Even now, Steve assessed his movements across the room. That was the way it should be. Steve should think of him as a weapon. He wasn’t something safe. Not even now.

“I think about drawing you sometimes, the way things were before.” Steve said, tilting his head slightly to the side in the way that made Bucky’s heart ache at the familiarity of it. Would he ever not know the motions of Steve’s body? Would it ever not make him hurt and ease his hurt at the same time? How had he lived with this before? How was he supposed to deal with it now?

“Why don’t you?” Bucky moved towards him.

Steve shrugged, taking his hands out of his pockets. “It’s in the past. Maybe I will sometime.” His smile was real, same as the rest of him, even if Bucky still thought of everything like a dream. “I’d rather live in the present.” His hand reached out to rest on Bucky’s arm.

“I’m not.” Bucky hesitated. “You say that, but I still think you wish it was before.” Even after being with Steve, he couldn’t shake that feeling.

Steve’s hand moved up to cup his cheek. “When are you gonna get it through that thick skull of yours? You’re here now. I’m here now. Let’s make the most of what we have, okay?”

“And just pretend you don’t wish I was him?” Bucky pushed away his hand.

Steve’s other palm came up to rest against his chest. “There’s no him or you, Buck. Just you and me, same as it’s always been.” His head dropped for a moment as he considered what he was about to say next. The hesitation there, hitch in his breath, Bucky knew those too.

“When it comes down to it,” Steve said softly, “I’m not the same person either.” He looked at Bucky straight on. “You were always so used to protecting me. I know it can’t be easy to just accept that things have changed.”

“What things? That you don’t need me anymore?” Bucky’s laugh was tight in his chest, pushing right back against Steve’s hand. “That’s a good thing.”

“I do need you.” Steve said. “Even if you don’t see it the same way. I need you.” His fingers curled into the material of Bucky’s sleeve, and held him tight. For the first time, Bucky realized it might be true. Steve might just need him, might just _want_ him as much as he did Steve.

“I need you,” Steve said again. “I love you, Buck.”

Bucky’s lips smiled before he could believe it. “Punk.” His fingers gripped Steve’s neck. “You know how long I’ve wanted-“

Steve’s smile – “I mean it.”

“I know you do.” Bucky whispered. He leaned into Steve, breathing deep as he let himself be here in this moment and no other. “I love you too, Steve.”

Steve’s arms went around him, drawing him close. Bucky rested his head against Steve’s shoulder, breathing him in.

In later moments when Bucky filled the emptiness, he put Steve there. Kissing Steve was one strand of color after another, woven together until he had a tapestry so bright it hurt to look at.

* * *

_What am I doing here?_

_Nothing u don’t want to do._

Sam made a face at his phone. He’d texted Nat because while she may have been Steve’s friend first, she was Sam’s friend now.

_Sure bout that?_

_U serious?_

All right, she had a point. He glanced over his shoulder at the open bedroom door. Steve and Bucky were still sleeping. Bucky’s face buried in the curve of Steve’s shoulder. Steve looked peaceful like that. Sam liked the look of it on his face.

For once they were asleep, and he was the one awake. Sam switched on the coffeemaker and yawned. Let them sleep a while longer. There was time. He leaned on the counter and looked out the window at the fresh day starting.

* * *

_Six months after Steve had woken up, his mouth smoky and bruised, they’d found Bucky. He was in an alleyway in Detroit, hunched down behind a stack of trashcans, arms wrapped around himself._

_“Bucky.”_

_He looked up when the man approached him, waiting for the gun to his head. No fight this time. It was the logical conclusion to this whole mess. The fragments in his head rearranged themselves as he looked at the blond man in front of him. Not drowned, no longer damaged from Bucky’s fists. Clean-shaven, sharp-eyed, and hopeful as he crouched down in front of Bucky._

_“Bucky.” The man said softly. “Hey, it’s me.”_

_Bucky’s eyes cleared as he gazed at him. He only spoke one word, but that was enough._

_“Steve_.”


End file.
